


Autonomy

by wilyasha



Series: Firewall [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Child Abandonment, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 08:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11802795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilyasha/pseuds/wilyasha
Summary: Shiro is gone and the thought of him drifting listless in space makes Keith weak with grief. Yet staying at the Marmora headquarters base is probably the safest course of action, no matter how much he wants to climb into Red and disappear. Forced to stay put with his fellow paladins, Keith takes the rare opportunity to observe his parents from a distance, while learning small fragments about the war that left Allura an orphan and him stranded on Earth.





	Autonomy

**Author's Note:**

> This entire series really diverges from the canon timeline and ventures into AU territory. This story in particular takes place after the main events of "Blackout" (02x13). When I originally starting writing this series, I was pretty obsessed over the theory that Thace was Keith's father. So, this story/series explores that theory in depth. There is a bit of a time gap between the events of [Hybrid Theory](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11764881) and this fic.
> 
> Content Warnings: This series features a main original character with an emphasis on canon divergence. There are discussions of child abandonment. There is also heavy amounts of angst.

The trip back to the Blade of Marmora headquarters is tiresome. Keith feels worn and weary. It’s only been months since this new world came into existence, but it feels like he’s been in this war his entire life. And perhaps he has. After meeting his mother, a royal Galran and resistance fighter, all the resentment that he’d pushed down and away had come roaring back like a tsunami. Rage and bitterness fills his gut. He is angry with Zarkon. He is angry with Larka. He is angry with Allura. He is angry that he had to rescue a man who instantly knew Keith was his son and, without a further thought, fought beside him. He is angry that Antok has been wounded so critically that he’s been unresponsive even in the cyro-replenisher. He is enraged that only a few hours ago he was looking at Shiro’s handsome face. He’s frustrated with himself for not pulling Shiro aside, to kiss him one final time before the battle that Keith surely thought would end in the red paladin’s death. 

He has been in this war his entire life. Just by being born, he was immediately involved. It’s in his blood.

But all the resentment flushes away as he watches his mother – no _Princess Larka_ come into the greeting hall of the headquarters, flanked by her usual two female recruits. He watches as she stands back. She doesn’t rush to her husband who she’s been away from since Keith’s birth. But he can see her eyes glistening in the low light as she catalogs every bruise and scratch on Thace’s exposed skin, the deep glowing gash on his upper chest, the sudden age in the gray tufts of fur on his ears. Kolivan tosses out some orders to transfer Antok immediately to the infirmary before he approaches Larka, whispering something in her ear. 

Her eyes widen briefly before looking at the remnants of the paladins. He knows what they look like: cracked and battered and fraying at the seams. Pidge’s pupils have been dilated since they left what was left of Zarkon’s fleet and hub. Lance and Hunk look uncertain and wholly uncomfortable at the Marmora headquarters. Allura, herself, keeps staring at her hands, tremors shuddering through her body every so often. Coran and Slav are the only two who look remotely unscathed, but Keith knows Coran carries weight on his shoulders and Slav is only compulsively calculating how many other realities there are where they all live.

“Thace,” says Kolivan. “Report to the Record for debriefing. I want it all logged.” There’s an exchange of titles and Thace is dismissed. Keith quickly realizes the only two people left in the hall are him and his mother.

“Are you hurt?” she asks, her voice low and her gold eyes searching his face. He wonders why he’s still not purple. Shouldn't the magic have been worn out by now?

Keith shakes his head. “Nothing other than the usual.” Maybe he’ll ask her another time.

She looks like she wants to say something else and part of him wants her to, but another part can’t stand the soft purr of her voice.

“Kythel,” she hums, taking a step towards him.

He immediately steps back. “That’s not my name.”

He watches her eyes glisten again, but her jaw tightens like she wants to correct him. Larka nods, looking down at the floor instead.

“You should go see him,” Keith says. “He’s pretending like he isn’t wounded, but I think he injured more than his pride today in that druid blast.” He brushes past her before she can say a word.

\--

Another solar cycle has begun and Voltron is still at the base between black holes. Keith feels agitated more so than usual. He needs to be out there looking for Shiro, not stuck inside some rock. After his training with Kolivan, he spars with Lance. He’s sweating, overexerting himself until tears fall on his cheeks and he tastes salt on his lips.

Lance embraces him without question, hugging him close with a hand in his thick hair.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Lance sighs. “It’s okay.”

It’s not okay, he wants to say.

\--

Another solar cycle and the Galran princess keeps her distance just as much as the Altean princess does. There’s a tension between the cousins that oozes out like poisonous miasma; it’s getting under everyone’s skin. The last time they saw each other, Altea was just about to be destroyed. The only time he sees them together is at summits in a large hall in one of the lower levels. When the meeting is over, Larka is the first to leave, followed by Coran, who has suddenly become a mediator between the princesses. It hasn’t been the first time Allura has lashed out at Larka since they became allies and Larka takes it with a clenched jaw. 

Better than Allura lashing out at Keith despite their renewed friendship.

\--

He didn’t ask for this.

He always thought his parents would be human.

He was terribly wrong.

\--

A third solar cycle passes and he’s eating something other than food goo in the mess hall. The only good thing that come out of this is that the Galran eat solid food. No green goop anywhere. Only thick slabs of vat meat and hydroponic-grown vegetables and roots. Hearty, solid stews served over red and orange steamed grain; it almost reminds him of Earth. If he’s honest with himself, he’s been doing research on the people of Daibazaal. It once was a planet of various regions: deserts, highland forests, an arctic tundra, and a few temperate locations. The Galran are a carnivorous people, but their expansion into space caused them to be less obligate and more facultative. They’re apex predators in their slice of the universe, and not just because of their technological and magical advancements.

He spots Larka in the mess hall, piling food on a dark tray. Keith narrows his eyes. He looks around, only seeing Lance chat up a few girls a table away. He nods in his direction, before rising from his seat. Keith dumps the last few pieces of meat into the garbage chute and puts his tray in a bin before leaving. Larka isn’t in the corridor, but he doesn’t have to go too far to find out where she’s gone. She’s hurrying down one hall and taking a lift.

He watches the display as it stops on the third sub-level floor. He waits for the lift before following her back down. This hallway only has a few rooms. It’s dim and colder than any of the other floors. He wonders why she’s down here. It doesn’t even feel lived in. He hears the low sound of talking from a couple rooms down. One of the doors are cracked open like it didn’t slide shut properly, but he can see the light on, hazy and glowing.

“…so much better,” says a deep voice. Thace.

“Good.” There’s a soft chuckle. Larka. “I don’t know how you’ve become such a picky eater.”

“Try eating that stuff they feed us at Central Command and you’d say _gross_ , too,” Thace says around a mouthful of food.

“ _That_ is gross,” Larka says. And they’re both laughing and Keith feels like he’s intruding.

But he can’t pull away.

There’s silence for a while and he knows that he can’t disappear down the hall without them hearing him.

“Are you okay, Larka?” Thace's voice is full of concern.

More silence.

“Larka?”

More silence. Then, the sound of shuffling as if someone is getting up and sitting back down.

“I’m just tired.”

There is more movement and Keith inches closer to see into the room. His parents are sitting on a small bed, looking at each other. He watches as Thace kisses Larka on the forehead. Her eyes fluttering shut as if it’s the most important feeling in the universe.

“I know,” Thace says, “but we’re almost done. Zarkon’s reign is destabilizing. With Zarkon incapacitated, his ranks will fight amongst themselves. We could free our people and return home. We can make it better, for everyone, like we wanted.”

Larka nods. “But what do we do after?”

He watches as his father gently caresses his mother’s face, strokes over her cheekbones with his thumbs. “We’ll live. We’ll rebuild the Gal colony. We’ll take in refugees. You’ll be queen of the Galran and Allura will be queen of the Alteans, just like it was always supposed to be. Peace between Daibazaal and Altea, finally.”

“But Thace, what about Kythel?” she asks, softly. He can see her eyes glistening and then the tears spilling over.

“He is grown, my love. He’s nineteen and he will make his own choices. I told him to leave me behind on that warship while I could activate the bomb, but he refused. He made his own choice and he stayed. I haven’t held him since you brought him into this world yet he stayed behind and fought by my side, Larka. He fights like you, like wild fire, and he holds his own,” Thace pauses. “Kythel doesn’t know us. He’ll come to us when he’s ready. You can’t force it.”

Larka looks down, nodding. Keith watches as his father presses his forehead against his mother’s. He knows he’s intruding. He should never have heard this conversation. Slowly and carefully, he retreats.

\--

He learns their schedule. In the morning, they eat breakfast together in the mess hall, followed by exercise in the gymnasium. His dad lifts weights, while his mom runs on a machine that looks eerily like a hamster wheel. They go their separate ways by midday. His mom trains younger Blades and the children of veteran revolutionaries. They’ll have to take field operations soon. Although she’s a stern teacher, her voice is soft as she instructs sparring sessions, interrogation drills, and alchemy lessons for those who gravitate towards the manipulation of the universe’s energies. During that time, his dad disappears into a room on the fifth level. From outside he can hear raised voices. Kolivan and Thace arguing; sometimes Allura chimes in, her tone sharp as she shares her thoughts. Keith is surprised to hear Hunk’s deep voice, talking everyone down as the arguments end. Afterwards, his dad meets with Coran and Pidge in the library. He doesn’t hear those conversations. He can’t get close enough without them hearing his footsteps.

They eat a late lunch together. The younger Blades crowd around Thace, picking his brain and hearing stories about his time at Central Command. Kolivan and Ulaz join them, brushing off the recruits. The crowd dims. That’s when he loses track of them. He is sure Thace disappears to the gymnasium again. He’s been undercover for nineteen years and Kolivan knows he needs a well-deserved break, but that won't stop Thace from training. Instead Keith follows Larka and he realizes why she brings Thace his food later. She eats her dinner with Allura in a large room near the top floor. It’s an observation deck and when Keith peers around the corner he can see the glass and the darkness of space, the eerie brightness of the blue star and its twin black holes. They dine in silence.

It’s one quintant later while Thace is sparring with Ulaz, that he goes to observe Allura and Larka. They’re eating quietly when Allura hisses, dropping her utensils on her plate.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” she says, her fists clenched on the edge of the table.

“Then leave,” Larka says, taking a drink from her glass.

“I hate you so much,” Allura spits. “You’re just like him, do you know that? Cruel, vindictive…” The vitriol pours from her mouth. “I can’t stand to look at you.”

Larka sits there, staring out the window, jaw clenched. And finally, she’s had enough. She slams her own hands down on the table, fangs flashing as she stands.

“Everything I’ve ever done was with your welfare in mind,” Larka growls. “Would you like it if I looked like this?” And before his eyes, Larka changes. Her skin turns fair, her eyes become a pretty violet, the sclerae white. Her hair is black rather than the usual dark purple. “Or maybe something more appropriate for Altean royalty,” she spits. Again, Larka changes. Her skin turning just as brown as Allura’s, her hair soft and white, and her eyes are a pretty amber-gold. Her Altean markings fuchsia and bright.

Allura stiffens, turning away. Larka shifts back to her Galran form and stares at Allura.

“I can’t change who I am, Allura. I won’t change who I am,” she says. “But I’m the one who got you out of that city and onto that ship. I’m the one who told Coran what Zarkon’s plans were. I have always and will always be on your side. If you don’t like the choices I made in keeping you alive, then that’s something you must work through on your own. But I refuse to apologize to you. I would rather you hate me. Hate me, Allura.”

Allura’s gaze softens. “You didn’t give me a choice. I would have fought by your side. I could have worked with you from the inside.”

Larka makes a noise resembling a frustrated tiger. “The druids may have backed my claim to the throne over Lotor’s, but they would have known you were there for one reason. If Haggar found out, she would have eventually figured out we were planning something together.”

Allura stiffens, eyes widening as her palms press flat against the table. 

“She would have experimented on you, forced your loyalty,” Larka pauses, “or executed us both. It was better for you to stay in hiding.”

Allura scoffs. “We were the same age. I would have—”

“You think I wanted to do what I did.” Larka’s tone is cold. “You think I wanted to hide you and my son. I wanted to be a coward. I wanted to so badly, to find you and find him and travel far away from my father’s reach. Let Zarkon take over, as long as we were safe, I—” He hears his mother’s voice break, sees her look down at the smashed dishes and bent utensils. “Zarkon is my father, my responsibility. Everything he has done rests on my shoulders. I don’t want to do this anymore either. After this is finished, when Zarkon's regime is destroyed and I reclaim the Gal colony, I’m taking in refugees. You’re welcome to join.”

Keith hurries down the hall and into an adjacent closet as Larka leaves Allura surrounded by broken cutlery.

\--

Larka avoids Keith even more after that. She takes her meals in private and her spare time is spent in the library, her personal laboratory, or overseeing Antok’s difficult recovery. Despite how the conversation ended, Allura starts talking to Keith more. She seeks him out in the gymnasium, sits beside him at meals, and even tells him to intend afternoon summits alongside her. The friendliness they once had, returns more concrete than before. She even shares a few jokes with him at dinner one quintant.

But his belly gripes as he thinks about Shiro. The endless possibilities of where he could be. Abandoned on some dusty moon. Held captive aboard an Imperial vessel. His mind screeches to a halt at the thought of Shiro being tortured again, forced into the arena, or sent to a work camp. He takes a deep breath, a blush darkening his cheeks. It takes all his energy to not cry. If Pidge hasn’t lost hope in finding her brother and father, Keith can’t lose hope that Shiro is out there. Keith will save him. 

Plans are coming to fruition. They’re going to raid a Galra work camp two star systems away and free the slaves. It’s a small project that won’t require Voltron, another matter that looms over everyone.

The plan comes to a head at the following summit. For once, Larka is in attendance. Kolivan and Allura are doling out roles: who is going to be where, what ship everyone is going to be on, how the assault will happen, and where the freed slaves will go after. Larka is happy that Thace is sitting this one out, staying at the Marmora base, but she’s unhappy that Kolivan is forcing her to stay behind as well.

“I’m better in the field,” she argues.

“The last time you were fully involved in an operation was a laagorn ago,” Kolivan says. From Ulaz’s Galran language lessons, Keith translates that a _laagorn_ is approximately two Earth years.

“Quintants ago my mobile team and six other teams provided cover fire and took down Zarkon’s remaining fleet, while you sucked his ship through a wormhole to another part of the universe. I think I can personally dispatch some overseers and free slaves,” she argues. Keith almost wants to defend Larka’s position, but the rest of the room's occupants look uncomfortable and he feels an identifiable sensation in his chest. His throat itching all the while. 

Before Larka can say anything more, Allura speaks.

“Larka, you have to finish your laboratory projects. And Antok’s declining health needs your expertise,” she says. “You’re staying here.”

Larka’s jaw clenches and Keith watches as Thace puts a hand on her shoulder.

She relents.

\--

He spots her in the library. He’s suited up, ready to dispatch for his own mission with Red: finding Shiro. But he needs to see her before he goes. She’s reading on a tablet, a brow raised in contemplation. The furniture surrounding her is covered in stacks of old, dusty tomes from strange planets and piles of sleek Galran reading tablets. For a moment, he can hear her purring, a soft noise of relaxation while she reviews research and sorts through sources.

His hands itch and on instinct he makes a noise in the back of his throat, light and trilling. Larka’s eyes immediately snap up, gold and alert. He makes the noise again and it’s like he can’t control himself. It soothes the constant itching in his throat, fills him with child-like warmth. She’s up, out of her seat in a moment, crossing the common room to embrace him. He falls into her, sagging with relief.

“We’ll talk when you come back,” she says, hopeful and she makes another tiger sound.

He nods. “I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Galra Headcanons 101 with Benji (aka wilyasha)
> 
>  
> 
> I headcanon that Galran offspring (no matter how much of a hybrid) make a soft trilling chuff noise when they see their parents. Usually it wanes with age, but if an adult Galra hasn’t seen their parent in a while they will also make that noise after seeing them again. The reason Keith’s throat has been itching so much is because not only was he unknowingly trying to not make this noise, but he was unwilling to see his mother for who she was: his mom. 
> 
> In my own fanon Galran language, this noise is called _delsulkri_ , an automatic trill that offspring make around their parents for affection, attention, or to show trust. Galran adults make a chuffing noise to other adults in greeting and to convey other emotions (such as mild irritation, acknowledgement, affection). It’s like a universal exclamation with various meanings. In my own fanon Galran language, this adult-to-adult noise is called _delsari_. 
> 
> Although the _delsulkri_ chuff has a higher pitch than the _delsari_ chuff, the two sounds can be compared to the chuffing noise tigers make, also known as prusten. Unlike the tigers’ chuffing which is produced from the nose, the Galran chuffing is produced through the mouth. 
> 
> Also, I’m pretty sure snow leopards chuff, too, due to throat physiology.


End file.
